“Shane? Thank God, somebody sane. Well, sane-ish.”

“You'd be quite sane and well-adjusted if your family had happened to somebody else”

“--Why are we fighting them?--They're mad. We're sane.--How do we know?--That we're sane?--Yes.--Am I sane?--To all appearances.--And you, do you consider yourself sane?--I do.--Well, there you have it.--But don't they also consider themselves sane?--I think they know. Deep down. That they're not sane.--How must that make them feel?--Terrible, I should think. They must fight ever more fiercely, in order to deny what they know to be true. That they are not sane.”

“Somebody has to be sane during regular business hours, and it's not going to be me, missy.”

“It is thanks to my evening reading alone that I am still more or less sane.”

“Nobody's cut out for this town," Shane said. "Nobody sane anyway.""Says the kid who came back.""Yeah, kind of proves my point.”